


The Apprentice

by SoftObsidian74



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, HP: EWE, M/M, Severus Snape Lives, Spanking, Swearing, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:26:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftObsidian74/pseuds/SoftObsidian74
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Severus takes Harry on as a teaching assistant in Potions, they discover they both have a lot to learn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lessons in Research

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for Snape-Potter's 2014 Snarry-A-Thon-14, prompt #127- _Nobody would ever suspect that behind closed doors, Harry is the Professor and Severus is the one in detention._
> 
> Beta'd by Marc, Badgerlady, & EmilyWaters
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

“So let’s get started, shall we?” Harry said, a bit more forcefully than he’d intended. He couldn’t help it; being back in Snape’s old Potions classroom put him on edge. It was late summer, and only the beginning of a new school year at the newly renovated Hogwarts, yet Snape’s classroom was as dreary as ever. Oval-shaped, surrounded by long columnar windows covered with heavy black drapes, the room was too dark and creepy, just like the man standing in front of Harry. He quickly wiped his palms on his robes and tried to stand stoically under the Potions Master’s imposing gaze.

“And how do you propose we begin, Potter?”

Harry threw up his hands. “Is that a trick question? I dunno. I’m here to learn, remember?”

“Then shut up, have a seat, and listen,” Snape replied curtly. 

Harry felt the corner of his mouth twitch as he tried to hold back a retort. He’d sworn to himself not to antagonize the man he’d come to see in an entirely different light since the war ended. Slowly, he sank down onto the closest desk seat. 

In a rather flamboyant swish of black robes, Snape turned his back and made his way to the podium, as if he were about to give a lecture.

Harry rolled his eyes. There was no one else in the classroom; it was free period and all of the students were in study hall or their dormitories. 

“Let’s start with something simple. Tell me, Mr Potter, what is the formula for Pepperup Potion?”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, racking his brain for answers. “Uh… I know it contains some sort of stimulant. Something natural like ginseng or iodine?”

“I see,” Snape said gravely, his ever-present frown deepening. 

Harry squirmed in his seat, annoyed at the way the man was staring down at him. He was no longer a child; he was a grown man and a war hero. Yet somehow, in this room, he always felt small and daft. He hated it.

“Well, what’s in it then?” he asked impatiently. 

Snape descended the steps quickly, picking up a heavy tome on his way. He dropped it on Harry’s desk like a bag of rocks, and stood with his arms folded, waiting in silence.

Harry scrunched up his face in confusion. “What? You want me to look it up?”

“No, I want you to _read,_ Mr Potter. I cannot mentor someone who hasn’t done the proper research. I will not waste my time, or yours.”

“You’re serious?” Harry asked in exasperation, his frustration mounting. “The only reason I agreed to serve as your teaching assistant is because you said you’d help me pass my NEWT in Potions.”

“You cannot assist me if you are not prepared to do the work required for making potions. You have to put effort into learning, and that begins with research. Now, do you want my help or not?”

Harry stared down at the heavy tome and cracked his knuckles underneath the desk. 

“Fine,” he muttered as he pulled back the cover.

Δ 

Later that night, Severus sat in his worn green leather armchair, staring down at the faded brown carpet in his dimly lit private study as he waited for his visitor. Potter had reached out to him a few weeks before, not only to request assistance with Potions, but also to extend a hand in friendship. Severus had no idea what to do with such a request, but when Potter had suggested they spend some time having tea in the evenings together, he’d accepted… out of pure curiosity. Severus doubted such an effort would produce anything fruitful or long-term, but all the same, he was still interested to see what would come of it. 

It was half past eight in the evening when the knock finally arrived. Severus nearly jumped out of his chair, his heart beating much too fast. He inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled slowly before counting his paces to the door. He was determined not appear anxious, despite his doubts about what they could possibly discuss, given their complicated history.

He stood at the door for a moment, waiting for a second knock. There was none, and Severus smirked in spite of himself, aware he was playing a silly mind game. He immediately fixed his face to appear impassive and opened the door.

“Good evening, Potter.”

“I want you to call me Harry, remember?”

Severus gave Harry a short nod. “Yes, of course, _Harry._ Do come in.”

He watched as Po – Harry crossed his threshold to step inside. He was no longer a boy; Harry’s walk was naturally confident and he was much taller than Severus remembered. Then again, Severus’ memories of the previous year were as fuzzy as the fleeting remnants from a bad dream. 

But he’d survived it; he was still here, and so was Harry.

He shut the door. “How do you like your tea?”

Harry turned around and smiled brilliantly. “Got any whiskey?”

“As a matter of fact,” Severus said, crossing the room to his drinks cabinet, “I do.”

He quickly retrieved two glasses and poured them each four measures. When he glanced up, Harry was sitting in his lounge chair, watching him.

“That’s my chair,” Severus insisted.

“I like it, it’s cozy,” Harry said, leaning back and forth to test its flexibility. 

Severus tried not to glare as he handed Harry his drink. He took a seat in the hard wooden chair he kept for visitors he could only barely tolerate. The chair was very good for keeping their visits brief.

They sat in complete silence for almost five minutes, with Severus nursing his glass, glancing every so often at the man sitting across from him.

Harry looked entirely too relaxed sitting in the lounge chair; he was leaning all the way back, drinking and watching Severus with amusement.

It was quite uncomfortable, especially sitting in the hard chair, and absolutely bizarre. 

“So what do you want?” he blurted out.

Harry quickly sat up. “I told you. I’d like for us to get better acquainted. You sacrificed a lot for me, and I thought we could just… talk.”

“And what would you like to discuss?”

Harry shrugged. “You, me… and everything in between...”

Severus frowned. “I see. Well, I’m not particularly fond of small talk, so if you have questions or would like to tell me something, you may proceed.”

Harry chuckled and took another swig of his drink. “Ah, that’s not quite how this works. You see, _Severus,_ relationships usually require−”

“Relationship?” Severus wrinkled his nose.

“I’m not going to do all of the talking. You’ll have to put some effort into learning more about me, as well. You know, do some research,” Harry said with a simpering smile.

Severus narrowed his eyes, irritated to hear his own words thrown back at him. He sat staring at his glass for several moments, racking his brain for conversational questions. But the only question that came to mind was: _Why are you so damn insufferable?_

Not exactly a friendly conversation topic. This was going to be a lot harder than he’d thought. But Severus absolutely refused to back down from a challenge, especially from Harry.


	2. Lessons in Application

A month later, Harry sat rigid at his desk, waiting for the dreaded inquisition. His scheduled Potions oral exam had been looming like a trial date for weeks. Harry felt prepared, and really, he was sick and tired of reading. He was a man of action; reading theory and instructions did nothing to inspire him.

Snape took the podium, making his status clear once more. The man ruled over his Potions classroom like a goblin at Gringotts, never letting Harry forget who held the knowledge and keys to a future as an Auror. Over the past month, Harry had almost come to accept the power dynamic. Almost. 

With a grand wave of his hand, Snape signalled the start of the interrogation. 

“Tell me, Mr Potter, what is the formula for producing Pepperup Potion?”

“Three measures of ginseng, one-eighth measure of African sea salt, heat at medium temperature for two hours, stirring counterclockwise every ten minutes. Then add one and a half bundles of baneberry, and five drops of morning dew. Stir thoroughly and heat on high for ten minutes until it turns clear, and wave your wand.”

“Calming Draught?”

“Two and a half measures of opium, three toad hairs, a melted pickled slug, and one tablespoon of crushed Polypody. Stir three times, allow it to sit overnight, and then in the morning, you heat it for thirty minutes, remove from burner, and wave your wand thrice before it cools.”

“Amortentia?”

Harry opened his mouth and then paused. “Which variety?”

There was a shadow of a smirk when Severus replied, “All of them, and please list them by category.”

Harry took a deep breath and said every single one of them, by category and by severity. 

When he was done, Snape stood in complete silence, studying him. “Not bad,” he finally said. 

“Not bad?” Harry scoffed. “That was pretty impressive, and you know it.”

Snape clicked his teeth as he descended the steps. “Recitation, alone, is not impressive, Mr Potter. Any common parrot can do that. The proof will be in your performance. Retrieve your cauldron and brew a batch of Chelidonium Miniscula.”

“Cheli- what?”

“You heard me.”

Harry huffed. “You didn’t quiz me about that.”

“No, I did not, but surely you came across it in your research?”

Harry wrinkled his brow in deep concentration and reached for the heavy tome underneath his desk.

“Stop,” Snape said in a scolding tone.

Harry gripped the tome tightly, glaring at Snape. “I just need to look it up. It’s not even a common potion; it’s probably a footnote.”

“And, your point is?”

Harry threw up his hands. “Well, it’s not as if I could memorize the entire book – it’s two feet thick!”

“Then you’re not ready to brew, or to assist me,” Snape replied matter-of-factly. 

All of Harry’s previous concerns for propriety and deference to his new mentor vanished. “Oh, come on! You’re being completely unreasonable. How can I possibly assist you in lessons if you won’t allow me to brew? Besides, I can read on my own just fine; you’re supposed to be _teaching_ me how to improve my skills at making potions.”

Snape folded his arms over his chest. “All right, Potter. You will continue to read and memorize that tome while you practice the application of your new knowledge.”

“Good,” Harry said quickly, relieved Snape was finally going to allow him to actually do something. 

“But you may not brew anything unless you have it memorized. You cannot successfully apply knowledge if you do not truly know what you plan to do. I doubt they would allow you to consult your textbook for the NEWT. Even if they did, most of the potions you’ll be tested on are time-sensitive. If you have to flip through your textbook to find a formula, you will lose precious time and fail. Furthermore, I will not have any teaching assistant of mine consulting his textbooks like some amateur first year. Do we understand each other?”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry said. Even though he had won the battle to finally brew, somehow Snape had managed to turn his brief victory into a punishment.

“Very well. Now, show me how you would brew whatever five or six potions you’ve managed to memorize.”

Δ 

It was half past eleven p.m., but it felt much later than that. Harry still had more questions and, as always, Severus found them difficult to answer comfortably, despite the other man’s insistence that Severus transform his hard chair into a plush loveseat. It wasn’t nearly plush enough to relax on for Harry’s nightly inquisition.

_What was my mum like? I mean, I know everyone thought she was nice, but what kinds of things did she do for fun, before Hogwarts?_

_What was your least favourite subject at Hogwarts?_

_If you hadn’t joined the Death Eaters, what do you think you would have done instead? You know, after leaving Hogwarts?_

_I’m surprised you don’t have any Butterbeer; don’t you like it? Why not?_

Insipid questions: they were either stupid or too intimate. There didn’t seem to be any in-between when it came to Harry.

_Have you ever played Quidditch? I mean, did you ever think about trying out for the Slytherin team?_

“No,” Severus said, trying to veil his irritation. 

Harry huffed, rolling his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling. 

“Are you finished? It’s getting late,” Severus commented.

“You haven’t asked me anything yet,” Harry whined.

Severus clicked his teeth. “It’s my turn, then?” he said, reaching for his now tatty notebook filled with ‘Things to Ask Harry Potter’. As he flipped to page seven, he heard the man across from him growl in apparent frustration.

“Seriously, Snape, you’re still using that thing?” Harry asked.

“What exactly is your problem with my notebook?”

Harry laughed. It was short and hollow, and Severus tensed, ready for an insult. Harry didn’t disappoint. 

“I’m not the one with the problem. For someone so brilliant in Potions, you have the social skills of a troll. Really, you can’t be this antisocial.”

“I am attempting to make conversation, _Harry._ What more do you want?” Severus said, trying to keep his voice even.

Leaning in, Harry looked him squarely in the eye. “I want you to stop acting like a robot, with your one-word answers and your little notebook of planned questions. It feels like you’re going through the motions. You’re not really engaging in conversation with me; you’re not asking me anything _real._ ”

Severus could feel his upper lip curl as he bit out his retort. “Yes, I’m sure your question about whether I tried out for Quidditch will produce a more thoughtful discussion.” 

“Argh!” Harry groaned. “I give up! It’s obvious you don’t want to get to know me better. I don’t want to force a friendship on you, so let’s just forget it,” he said, rising.

A slow, sinking feeling seized Severus, as though an anvil were tied around his chest, and he could think of nothing except for one word. It echoed loudly in his head like a siren. 

_No. No. No._

Watching Harry set his cup down and rise from his seat was like witnessing someone holding a freshly brewed batch of Polyjuice Potion over a sink drain. 

“Stop,” he choked out.

Harry paused at the door, his back turned. “What?”

“I… I’m not used to having company,” Severus said quietly, “Or making conversation. Nevertheless, I thought we were making reasonable progress.”

“We’re not having real conversation,” Harry said in frustration.

“I see. Well, I’d like to work on… becoming a better conversationalist.”

Harry slowly turned around, his eyes measuring Severus in a way that made him want to look away. But he didn’t.

“If I stay, and we continue this, you have to get rid of the notebook. And when I ask you a question, I want a complete answer. No more one-word replies. The only way we can have a real conversation is if you take a real interest in me. It’s like… you have to connect what I say to your own thoughts and experiences. Just listen, and let the answers and questions come naturally.”

Severus gave him a brief nod to acknowledge he would try. When Harry sat back down and took a sip of tea, Severus exhaled discreetly.

“Why didn’t you try out for Quidditch?” 

Severus sighed. “If you must know, I really hate flying on brooms. And I hate Bludgers… but most of all, I despise cocky fame-seeking Seekers.”

Harry laughed genuinely this time, and Severus found he didn’t mind the sound.


	3. Lessons in Transparency

Three weeks later, Snape stalked down the aisles of his classroom, a quill in one hand and a notepad in another, taking note of his students’ progress with the Rano Potion. As he approached Chris Ayer’s lab table at the end of the third row, Harry intercepted and blocked his view of the boy. 

“Let’s see what you have there, Chris,” Harry said to the brown-haired blued-eyed fifth year, who glanced nervously from his cauldron to Snape, who apparently was peering over Harry’s shoulder. 

When the boy’s elbow knocked over a flask of flobberworm mucus, Harry was once again reminded of a fifth-year version of Neville.

“I don’t know if it is right, but I followed the instructions to the letter,” Chris replied.

Harry gave him a small smile. “Hmm, yes, it looks good. Really good. Nice colour, smooth texture. Great job, Chris.”

He stood in front of the boy protectively until he heard Snape slink away. Chris gave Harry a grateful smile and Harry moved on to observe the next student, keeping an eye on Snape. 

When the lesson was over, Harry lined up the cauldrons for cleaning. Cleaning by hand was the best, but Harry hated scrubbing after students. It was a task more fit for detention than a teaching assistant. So he pulled out his wand and began performing cleansing charms on each cauldron. 

“What are you doing?” Snape drawled from behind.

Harry jumped. He’d thought the man had left to do whatever sadistic teachers did after a full day of emotional torture. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Harry replied coolly, keeping his back turned. 

“Cauldrons should be cleaned –”

“By hand,” Harry finished in his best imitation of Snape’s condescending drawl. 

“Mocking me will not help you pass your NEWT, Mr Potter. Nor will lying to protect students.”

Harry sighed and turned around to face Snape. “I didn’t lie. I was trying to help Chris with his confidence.”

“You lied and said he was doing _well,_ when we both know he’s a deplorable student.”

“He’s trying. That’s half of it,” Harry said defensively.

“It means nothing. Potions-making is an art and a science. Mr Ayers lacks intellect and finesse; he’ll never be a Potions Master.”

Harry balled his fists at his side to quell the unexpected flare of rage that left him shaking. “Then why should he try at all? He might as well not come to class. What’s the point, anyway, if you’ve already made up your mind about him?”

It came out as a shout that shocked both of them. Harry bit his lip, embarrassed by his emotional outburst. He sounded more like a scorned boy than a grown man. 

Snape simply stood there, staring at him speculatively. After several moments, he spoke in a surprisingly soft voice. “The point is − he _can_ improve, Mr Potter. I dare say he can even become good at it.” 

Harry swallowed as his previous anger dissipated into something that resembled hope. Was Snape talking about Chris or him?

“But he cannot improve without transparency. Honest feedback is essential to growth. We cannot coddle students if we want them to achieve excellence. Our job is to point out their mistakes, so that they may learn from them.”

“Our job… ”

“Yes, Potter, you are my assistant, correct?”

Harry gave Snape a half-shrug, “I suppose. Sometimes you don’t allow me to assist.”

“That is because you have not yet learned all of the potions I teach.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “I certainly know more than I knew three weeks ago when you first quizzed me.”

Snape folded his arms over his chest; one eyebrow quirked. “Oh? How many more have you committed to memory? Two, three?”

“Ten,” Harry said challengingly.

“Potter, do you recall what I just said about transparency? Are you telling me that you are ready to demonstrate your knowledge of ten new potions?”

Harry inwardly groaned, his eyes dropping to the floor as he shifted on his feet. “Oh, all right—five.”

When he looked up, Snape had a rare small smile on his face. Harry wrinkled his brow in bemusement.

“That’s better. Now, show me what you know.”

Δ 

Severus watched as Harry rummaged through his antique black lacquer drinks cabinet. Clearly, the man was becoming too comfortable. 

“You have a pretty decent stock here. Good scotch, bourbon, whiskey, ah… here we are—vodka. Too bad you don’t have any pumpkin juice.”

Severus sighed. “On the side of the desk, third compartment on the right, there is a small ice box...”

Harry clapped his hands and proceeded to crawl around the desk to explore this new revelation. Severus had almost become accustomed to watching the other man investigate and ask questions about various objects in his private chambers, as if the answers would provide more solutions to whatever puzzle he seemed intent on solving. 

“Do you ever go out to drink?” Harry asked, returning with his beverage in hand to take a seat on the small loveseat.

Severus shifted in his lounge chair. “What do you mean?”

Harry shrugged. “I mean, do you always just drink alone, here in your private study? You never go out and drink socially?”

“Out where?” Severus asked, more harshly than he intended.

Harry huffed, in what sounded like aggravation. “You know, out in public, like at a pub.”

“No,” Severus responded curtly, hating the specter of shame darkening his awareness.

“Why not?” Harry pressed.

Severus stiffened, as the unexpected urge to defend his lifestyle rose up like a magical fence. “Why would I want to surround myself with drunkards who can’t enunciate or stand up properly? I’d rather enjoy my drink in a zoo than be caught dead in a pub.”

Harry put his drink down and stared back at Severus speculatively. “You’re lying.”

“Pardon?”

“I think you’re scared.”

Severus threw Harry a ‘you-can’t-be-serious’ look. “Of what exactly?”

“Of people, being around others. And frankly, with your past, I can’t say I blame you.”

Severus scoffed. “I believe you are mistaking dislike for fear. People do not scare me.”

“Perhaps not,” Harry said slowly as if considering his next words carefully. “Perhaps you’re just scared of what happens when you’re around people. They’d probably expect you to be sociable. But being sociable requires talking. And we both know you don’t like doing that.”

“I’m doing it now, and I’ve been doing it for the past two months,” Severus replied defensively.

“Three weeks,” Harry corrected. “It’s been about three weeks since we started having real conversations. And you still avoid answering many of my questions.”

Severus upper lip curled as he glared back at Harry. “I’m not going to bloody well bare my soul to you.”

Harry sat back and nodded. “And I don’t expect you to. Truthfully, I have a hard time with being open, as well. But at least I’m giving it a real go.”

Once more, Severus’ frustration reared its ugly head. “Are you saying I’m not?” 

“No, you are doing better. But I can tell you’re not being fully transparent,” Harry remarked with a small smirk.

Severus rolled his eyes. 

“In fact, some of your answers are rather dodgy,” Harry continued. “I can’t always tell if you’re being honest with me—or yourself, for that matter.”

“Transparency has its limits, Harry. You do realize I’m the Head of Slytherin House? Full disclosure is not in my nature.” 

“Nor is it in mine,” Harry replied. “But how do you really get to know someone if you can’t trust what they’re telling you?”

Harry’s question hung in the air, taking up the space between them like a hippogriff. They sat in uncomfortable silence for nearly five minutes.

Finally, Harry spoke, his voice gentle, as he asked Severus once again, “Why don’t you go out?”

Severus dropped his eyes, afraid to look at the man in front of him, as he replied. “I don’t have anyone to go out with.”

He held himself absolutely still, bracing himself for derision. 

“That’s not true. You have me.”

Severus slowly looked up. Harry was smiling. 

“What do you say: after next month’s Hogsmeade trip, you and I check out a pub in London?”

Shock, fear and excitement coalesced into numbness as Severus nodded. “All right.”


	4. Lessons in Failure

As the last student for the day left, Harry rushed to the Potions cupboard to retrieve the ingredients for the Draught of Peace. Determination strummed him along like an Imperius Curse. He had to get this right this time. He just had to. It had become a personal challenge, one he was determined not to lose. 

He set down the vial of syrup of hellebore, a cup of powdered moonstone, and a small jar of powdered unicorn horn in preparation. The classroom was perfectly quiet and still, but it didn’t matter, Harry was in his own world.

“Three thimbles of moonstone,” he muttered. “Tap your wand twice and say a quick Aguamenti Spell.” 

As water streamed from his wand, he glanced up and nearly jumped back. Snape had quietly sneaked up on him, and was standing very close, watching. Harry gulped as his former anxiety returned. Concentrating on his cauldron, he recited the potion’s recipe line by line as he worked.

Two and half hours later, he stood in the same place, staring into the batch of orange mess he’d brewed. It was the wrong colour and lumpy, and it stank like Stinksap. 

His stomach was tied in knots from the overwhelming smell of his mistake, and his worry about his future as an Auror. 

“Are you just going to stand there all night, Potter? Or did you have plans to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” Harry mumbled, refusing to look at Snape. He could picture the man’s mocking black eyes on him.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Snape said with an exaggerated sigh. “You’ll try again tomorrow.”

“What’s the point? I’ll just muck it up again. Maybe… maybe I’m just not cut out to be an Auror,” Harry said in resignation, leaning back against the lab table behind him.

“Oh boo-hoo, I weep for you, Potter, I really do,” Snape said in a bored tone that made Harry look up.

“Think this is funny, do you?” Harry snapped. “This is my future we’re talking about! I’m trying. I’m really trying! I did everything the text said, and I still made a mess of it. What’s the use?”

Snape didn’t reply; instead he turned around as if preparing to leave. It didn’t matter; Harry’s mind was now occupied with other things, like alternative careers that didn’t require a NEWT in Potions. 

“I was pretty good in Magical Creatures; you only need two NEWTs for a job like that,” he said out loud to himself as he began to clean up. “And it’d be fun to work with Hagrid… ”

“What are you babbling about now?” Snape asked.

Stirred out of his thoughts, Harry frowned at Snape, “Nothing. Look, perhaps this isn’t working out. I’ve been thinking… I should talk to McGonagall about preparing for another career.”

Snape pursed his lips and Harry put himself on guard for more of the man’s disparagement. 

“I never took you for a quitter, Potter.”

“I’m not quitting,” Harry protested. “I’m being realistic. I hate Potions, and obviously I’m not cut out for it.” He stiffened as Snape began to walk slowly towards him. 

The man came to stand right in front of him, so close that Harry could feel his breath on his skin. Harry sucked in air and waited.

“You will fail,” Snape said matter-of-factly.

“Right, I think I just said that, but thanks for the vote of confidence,” Harry replied dryly.

“No, you idiot,” Snape said wearily. “You will fail if you continue to make potions. It is inevitable. It is necessary. How else can a wizard perfect the craft of potions-making without learning what not to do?”

“But I followed the instructions and I still got it wrong. I’ve reached a brick wall; I don’t know how to improve.”

“Then you’re not looking hard enough. You did something wrong.”

Harry shook his head, frustrated. “I did not.”

“You did. The problem is not with your skill; it’s your ego. You’re used to someone helping you.”

“That’s not−”

“You’ve always had assistance in and outside of my classroom. This has served you well, but it has also handicapped you because you have not learned how to fail. And until you are willing to accept your failure, Potter, you will remain unsuccessful in Potions.”

Harry gritted his teeth, hating the knowing way in which Snape had judged him. He resented being told he’d been assisted at every turn. Snape made him sound coddled like Dudley or Malfoy. Harry shook his head in denial, refusing to accept the man’s assessment.

Snape sighed and turned back towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked.

“The Great Hall; I’m rather hungry,” Snape said.

“What do you think I did wrong?” Harry blurted out. 

Snape slowly turned around, looking at Harry for a thoughtful minute. “What do you think you did wrong?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps it had something to do with the way I flicked my wand or how many half-turns I did. I didn’t exactly measure the half-turns, and I’ve never really paid attention to the finesse of my wand flick.”

Snape gave Harry the tiniest of smiles. “ _Perhaps_ is a good start… let’s talk about it over dinner.”

Harry blew out a hard breath and nodded. 

Δ 

They travelled by Floo to Diagon Alley. The familiar cobblestones and storefront signs were surprisingly comforting to see again, but not entirely. Severus had never been just out and about in Diagon, strolling along with a companion. He found the experience utterly bizarre. It didn’t help that his companion was Harry. 

“They’re not just looking at me, you know,” Harry said, smiling up at Severus in amusement.

“I have no idea who they’re looking at,” Severus said quietly, “but I wish they would stop.”

“You’re just as famous as I am now. You better get used to it.”

“I wouldn’t have to get used to it, if I avoided public places,” Severus muttered. 

Harry chuckled and patted Severus on the back, which only made the man feel more self-conscious and awkward. Harry had really become too comfortable and soon, very soon, Severus planned to have a stern word with him about it. 

“Harry! Over here!” someone called. 

Severus immediately gripped his wand inside his coat pocket. It was absurd, but it offered a small measure of comfort in times of uncertainty. 

When he saw Weasley and Granger running up to greet Harry, Severus inwardly cursed.

“Harry!” they both cried as if they hadn’t seen the man just a few months ago. They all exchanged too-long hugs while Severus tried not to groan.

“Professor Snape!” Granger exclaimed, her expression reflecting surprise, although Severus was quite sure this run-in was no accident, “So good to see you!”

“Thank you.”

The Weasley boy tried to give Severus a smile, but he looked more constipated than pleased. “You look so… alive,” Weasley said awkwardly, which earned him an elbow in the ribs from Granger, “Oww! I mean you look really healthy.”

They all stood in strained silence in the middle of Diagon Alley for several moments that felt like several minutes until Harry cleared his throat. “So, are we going to do The Leaky Cauldron or something new?”

“Something new,” Weasley and Granger said emphatically.

“All right, how about The Shanty three blocks up?”

Granger and Weasley nodded eagerly and they all began walking. Severus squeezed his wand like a stress relief ball as he stared at the back of Weasley’s shaggy red mane and the frizzy disaster Granger called hair. He cut his eyes to his right, and saw Harry peeking at him. Severus curled his lip in disapproval and Harry gave him a sheepish grin and half-shrug as if to apologize. But it was too late now. 

Set on the outside perimeter of Diagon, The Shanty looked fairly new, with its freshly polished wood sign and newly painted black shutters. When they stepped inside, Severus released the grip on his wand and exhaled. The absence of bright torchlight, combined with the low-burning candles set at each table, gave the pub a dark feel, just the way he liked it.

They took seats in a booth, in the corner, and a barmaid promptly came over.

“We’d like to order a pint,” Harry said quickly.

“I don’t drink beer,” Severus said. 

“What would you like, sir?” the waitress asked.

“A bourbon, straight up.”

“Gotcha. Anything else?” 

“No,” Severus said. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all placed a food order.

“So Harry, how’s it been? Is everything all right?” Weasley asked, his eyes darting nervously from Harry to Severus.

“Yeah, I had a bit of a rough start, but I’m doing fine now. I’m actually getting pretty good at Potions,” Harry boasted.

Granger’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Always the tone of surprise,” Harry said with a smirk. 

“Is that true, Professor? Is Harry excelling at Potions?” Granger asked.

Harry’s silent plea for approval and cooperation was apparent in his wide-eyed insistent stare.

Severus scoffed. “No, he’s not ‘pretty good’… ”

Harry’s eyes fell, and his cheeks turned red.

“But he is no longer abysmal,” Severus finished.

Harry tried to hide a smile, but Severus saw it. 

“It’s amazing to see you, Professor,” Granger said.

“Yeah, we thought you’d gone and bit it for sure,” Weasley chimed in. “When _The Prophet_ said you were still alive, we’d thought it was another one of Skeeter’s silly rumours.”

“I am pleased to have disappointed you, Mr Weasley.” 

“I didn’t mean−”

“It’s unfortunate the same could not be said of your brother.” 

Weasley turned red, and his jaw went tight as he stared daggers back at Severus.

“What Snape means is that he’s sorry about Fred,” Harry rushed to say. “By the way, how are your parents doing?”

Weasley’s glare softened a little as he gave a slight shrug. “All right, I suppose. Mum doesn’t cry as much anymore, and Dad is smiling more lately.”

Granger patted Weasley’s hand on the table and cleared her throat. “So, Professor, how are you feeling? You were in St. Mungo’s for a very long time. Have you completely recovered?”

“I’m doing well, thank you. And how are your parents? Have you fully restored their memories yet?”

Severus watched as Granger turned an unusual shade of plum and began to stammer. “I-I am working on that. They have most of them back. Harry, how could you?”

“Hermione, I’m sorry, I−”

“Hmm, yes, memory spells can be quite messy. It was rather unnecessary, if you ask me. There was no need to take such drastic measures.”

“I hardly think you are one to talk about drastic measures, Professor!” Granger protested as the barmaid came over with the drinks and food.

“I’m not hungry anymore. Ron, I’d like to leave now,” Granger demanded.

“Ah...” Weasley started, looking to Harry helplessly.

“Ron!”

“Yeah, sure. Well uh, I suppose we’ll catch up with you later, Harry.”

Harry winced as Granger shot him one last glare. She didn’t even bother looking at Severus as she marched out, with Weasley following close behind her.

“Well, that went well,” Harry said.

“Why did you invite them?” Severus asked bitterly.

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. You said you wanted to practice being more sociable. I figured this would be a good start, but I suppose I got that wrong as well.”

“You should have told me.”

“You would have just stayed at Hogwarts.”

“Which would have worked out much better for us both.”

Harry sighed. 

“Perhaps I’m just not cut out for this sort of thing,” Severus said wearily.

“No, you just need practice.”

Severus grimaced. “I’d rather have an entire classroom of first-year Gryffindors than suffer through that again.”

“You mean you finally found something you’re not good at, and you’re not willing to sacrifice your ego to work on improving?” Harry said with one eyebrow raised.

Severus grumbled and knocked back a full shot of bourbon. “Next time, I choose the place − and no Granger or Weasley.”

Harry smiled. “That shouldn’t be a problem; I doubt they’d want to join us, anyway.”


	5. Lessons in Perseverance

“Professor, I think I did it!” cried Chris as he looked around the room for Severus.

Harry and Severus exchanged a quick glance, and both moved in quickly to assess Chris’ results.

The boy fidgeted and wrung his hands as Severus stared down at the fresh-brewed concoction simmering in his cauldron.

“Mr Potter, what do you think?” Severus asked.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He quickly masked it and leaned in. “Looks good to me: smells right, great colour, milky consistency.”

“What grade would you assign Mr Ayers?”

The classroom became unusually quiet. Harry took note that the students had all ceased their own potions making to watch this particular interaction closely. It was the first time Severus had ever given Harry any modicum of control. 

“I would give him an ‘O’,” Harry declared with a slight challenge in his voice.

Severus glanced from Harry to Chris, who seemed to be holding his breath. “I agree. An ‘O’ it is. You’ve done very well, Mr Ayers. I never thought it possible, but you have made great progress.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Chris said. When Severus turned to observe the others, Chris gave Harry a proud smile.

After dismissing class, Severus took a seat near the front, pulled out a quill and parchment, and opened up a tatty old tome. Harry glanced up at him every few minutes as he cleaned up. 

The man looked noticeably better. Harry wasn’t sure what exactly looked different about Severus, but something had changed. Perhaps it was his hair; it was no longer greasy, as if he’d put some effort into washing it more often now. Or it could have been his skin. He was still pale, but he no longer looked sickly; there was a healthy glow in his cheeks. And the permanent frown was gone. He didn’t smile. That would have been weird. But he didn’t look unhappy, which was drastic enough.

Harry jerked when he noticed he’d been staring at Severus entirely too long. The man was staring back at him, his lips tight and his eyes suspicious. 

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

Harry shook his head, averting his eyes. “Uh, nothing. I just sort of fazed out, I suppose.”

Severus gave Harry a once-over and returned to his note taking. Harry felt stuck in place as he stared back at the man scribbling before him. A question sat on the tip of his tongue, but he was afraid to push it out. 

“Are you going to just stand there all day, or do you have something to show me?” Severus drawled without looking up.

“What?” Harry asked, trying to focus.

“I’d like to see your next demonstration of the Draught of Peace,” Severus replied.

“Well, I… besides that potion, I’ve mastered everything in the text. I think I’m ready to move to the next volume.”

“No, you’re not,” Severus replied. “You have yet to master the Draught of Peace.”

“But you’ve seen me successfully brew potions far more advanced.”

Finally, Severus stopped writing to look at Harry. “Yes. And I have to admit I am impressed.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile with pride. 

“But do not mistake that for permission to skip over a potion you find difficult to master.”

Harry’s smile disappeared. “Look, I don’t have to have a perfect score on the NEWT. I just need to score high enough to get by.”

Severus dropped his quill and rose from his seat, his mouth set in that characteristic frown Harry hadn’t missed one bit. 

Harry fought the urge to back up as Severus crossed into his personal space to stare down at him. He was much too close; his breath tickled Harry’s face and the man’s robes brushed against Harry. But most alarming was Harry’s reaction. Only a few months before, he would have been repulsed by Severus standing so close to him, but now Harry’s heart was beating much too fast, and his trousers seemed far too tight. Thankfully, he was wearing robes.

“Why do you think I allowed you to assign Mr Ayers a letter grade today?” Severus asked in a voice so quiet it almost sounded like a seductive whisper.

Harry tried not to squirm as his body once again reacted in a way that his head could not accept, or even process. 

“I- I dunno, really. You tell me.”

“Obviously, I think you’re capable of discerning expertly whether a fifth year’s potion is up to snuff. You have come a long way, Mr Potter. Much farther than I anticipated. I do not place my faith in mediocrity, so evidently I see potential in you for something much greater.”

Harry licked his lips; they’d gone dry. Severus’ eyes were drawn to the tiny act, and his gaze flickered from Harry’s eyes to his lips in a way that made Harry’s cheeks heat up. 

“In order to qualify for the Auror trials, you must receive an “Exceeds Expectations” on all of your NEWTS. The standard for exceeding expectations in Potions is extremely high, so you will do more than get by with a mediocre passing score. You will excel. You may continue practicing more advanced potions while you perfect the Draught of Peace. That means you will make it every day for me until you are able to produce it flawlessly. Understand?”

The air around them was unusually charged with something Harry couldn’t grasp. It was strange, exciting, and dangerous, and he couldn’t really breathe in it, let alone speak. He nodded numbly.

Severus stepped back, as if suddenly aware of his proximity, and Harry took the opportunity to exhale. Severus’ eyes dropped suddenly and he turned abruptly to make his way back to his desk. 

Harry made haste to retrieve his cauldron to practice the Draught of Peace again. With considerably more distance between them, the charged air deflated a little, but there was still something new and foreign hovering in Severus’ classroom, and Harry was at a loss as to how to identify it, or what to do with it.

Δ 

Severus ran a comb through his newly washed hair and checked his teeth. He gazed at his reflection once more and then forced himself to turn away. 

As ten p.m. approached, he began to pace. He paced for several minutes until he realized he was pacing. He stopped for a few minutes, only to begin pacing again. 

Today’s lesson with Harry had left him feeling off balance and vulnerable, like a wizard without a wand. He loathed it. If there was anywhere Severus felt most at home and in control, it was his classroom. Not only had he given Harry more power today, but to make matters worse, Severus had almost exposed his feelings. 

Over the past few weeks, he had become aware of the shift. It had been subtle at first. He’d started taking notice of Harry’s non-verbals, such as the remarkable way Harry could express anger, trepidation, and happiness with a simple glare or glance. His infectious laugh and devious smirk, and the way his Seeker hands played with anything within their grasp like a quill, a Galleon, or even his wand. 

Severus had nearly choked on his bourbon the first time he’d caught himself staring at those agile hands. He’d found himself daydreaming about how deftly those hands would handle a cock. When he caught himself wondering if Harry’s mouth was as skilled as his hands, he’d scolded himself and sworn he would never let such a thought cross his mind again. They’d simply been spending too much time together, he’d reasoned. That had to be it.

But over the past few weeks, those thoughts hadn’t ceased; in fact, they’d become more frequent. 

Severus’ thoughts now were often invaded by memories of Harry’s words from their nightly chats, his eyes, his hands, his confident, easy-going gait, and that bratty pout he’d wear whenever a potion didn’t turn out his way. Severus almost looked forward to seeing him fail now. Harry was making great progress in Potions with each passing day, but when he didn’t do well, he’d always seek out counsel. And being needed by Harry almost made Severus giddy with satisfaction. 

But today, there had been another shift, this one more pronounced. They had both felt something transpire as Severus had stood too close to Harry, breathing in his scent. Harry hadn’t backed away and that both excited and scared Severus. Now, he had no idea as to what he should say or do when the man arrived for his nightly chat.

A familiar knock on his door stopped Severus in his tracks. For several moments, he stood still, staring at the door, wondering what lay ahead for both of them. 

When he heard the shuffling of feet falling away, he rushed to open it. “Good evening.”

“Oh, you’re still up,” Harry said, looking genuinely surprised and, if Severus wasn’t mistaken, a bit nervous.

“Yes, of course. Come in,” Severus said, giving a grand gesture with his hand that felt quite silly afterwards.

Harry nodded, his eyes fixed on Severus as he stepped in. He crossed the threshold, moving past so that his arm lightly brushed Severus’ chest. Severus gritted his teeth as his cock stirred, and he closed his eyes briefly, trying to regain his control. Acting like a schoolboy with a crush around Harry was completely unacceptable.

He shut the door and was treated with the sight of Harry’s arse as the man searched the cooler for some ice. 

Severus had to tear his eyes away as heat crept up his collar. “You know, perhaps you don’t need to come by every night.”

Harry straightened and turned around with a frown. “You’re getting bored with me?”

“I don’t believe I said that.”

“Then why would you say anything at all about it? Is there something wrong?”

Severus took note of the anxious look in Harry’s eyes and the white-knuckle grip around his ice-filled glass. The strangeness between them was back and, once again, it seemed to be Severus’ fault.

“No, it’s just that… I don’t want you to feel obligated to visit every night. I’m sure there are days when you’re quite tired.”

Harry chuckled. “Of Potions yes, but not of you; I enjoy your company.”

Severus’ stomach fluttered. “I… thank you.”

“So,” Harry said, taking his usual seat. “When are we going out again?”

The flutter turned into a knot as Severus’ pulse quickened. “You’d like to go out _again?_ We’ve already been out four times.”

Harry laughed. “I know this is hard for you to grasp, Severus, but that’s not a lot. I thought we agreed we would continue until it becomes comfortable for you. There’s a Hogsmeade trip right before hols; what do you think?”

Severus slowly sat down. “I think that sounds fine.”

Harry licked his lips and, once again, Severus was immediately drawn to his mouth and the question of how it would taste.

He shook his head to banish it.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Nothing.”

“Why did you shake your head?” Harry asked. 

“I, uh… nothing,” Severus finished awkwardly.

Harry shifted in his seat as he took a slow sip of his drink. Severus dropped his eyes, unsure of what else to say. Right now, engaging in simple conversation with Harry seemed just as difficult as trying to socialize with his friends. 

“Do you think people are born straight or bent?” Harry asked abruptly.

Startled, Severus blinked and opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

“I mean, if you were born bent, you’d know right?” Harry continued. “Like, I would think someone would know if they preferred men or women by a certain age.”

“I’m not sure I believe that,” Severus finally replied. “Perhaps our sexuality is on a continuum. Does it really have to be either/or?”

Harry studied his drink, the crease in his brow deepening. “I really thought I was in love with Ginny, you know? I felt things. I wanted to be with her, in every way imaginable. But once we finally got together, it just sort of fizzled… it just wasn’t right. Now we barely speak to each other.”

Severus nodded calmly, but his insides were shaking. 

“I’ve never thought about being with a man before,” Harry said quietly.

Severus forced himself to keep his eyes on Harry with an impassive expression despite the endless loop of his internal monologue chanting _ohmygodohmygod._

“I suppose it’s like you said, though: just because I haven’t been with a man before doesn’t mean I _couldn’t_ be with one. I mean, perhaps I’ve just never run across one I’m interested in.”

The glass in Severus’ hand suddenly felt very heavy, and his legs were set in an uncomfortable position. He wanted to adjust and stretch out the tension he felt in them, but he was trapped in the snare of Harry’s gaze. The man was looking straight at him, green eyes piercing as if trying to see through Severus and cull some sort of confession out of him. But Severus couldn’t move, let alone speak.

“Have you ever been with anyone, at all?” Harry asked at last.

“That’s none of your business,” Severus said instinctively. He hadn’t meant to reply so harshly, but sometimes Harry provoked abrasiveness as a porcupine is pushed to brandish needles. 

“I didn’t mean... I’m just curious about you,” Harry said apologetically. “You never talk about anyone special. I was just wondering if−”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged, his eyes returning to his drink. They sat in a strange, tense silence for too long. Severus was just about to tell Harry he was ready to retire when the man looked up.

“Are you going to be here over holiday break?” Harry asked.

“Yes.”

“Then maybe I will, too,” Harry said with some hesitation.

Severus tried not to reflect surprise or hope as he replied, “I thought you’d made plans to stay with the Weasleys.”

“I think it’d be a good time to work on some things. You know: practice makes perfect and all that.”

Severus quirked one eyebrow, eyeing Harry sceptically.

“You were right today; I think that’s good advice for anything,” Harry said.

“What exactly did I say?” Severus asked.

Harry leaned in, his green eyes gleaming with something that turned Severus’ mouth dry, “That if you really want something, you should go for it, all the way. I don’t want to settle, and one day wake up wondering if I could have had so much more.”

“It’s good to know you’re paying attention,” Severus managed.

“Closer than you know,” Harry said with a small smile.

Severus held back a gasp and knocked back two large swigs.


	6. Lessons in Risk

Harry tried not to smirk as he waited for Severus to inspect his latest demonstration. He’d almost committed two complete tomes to memory and was now working on a third, more advanced and obscure, volume of Potions. All within his first term, only four months after his initial oral exam. He tried not to show his smug satisfaction, because Severus would only berate him to put him back in his place, but he couldn’t help but bask in confidence.

The thick blue liquid of the Draught of Peace began to bubble up in the cauldron as Severus moved closer to examine it. Harry’s heartbeat quickened as Severus grabbed a thick wooden spoon, dipped it, and slowly brought it out of the mixture to judge its consistency. When Severus leaned in to smell the potion, Harry couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.

“It’s odourless, as you know. You won’t smell a thing, and the texture is just right.”

Severus frowned and straightened, setting the spoon down. “It’s perfect.”

Harry grinned. 

“Perfectly mediocre. Rather boring, really.”

Blood rushed to Harry’s temples as his smile disappeared. “Boring? It’s as it should be, just as the book says.” 

Severus pursed his lips and turned his back. “If you really want to excel in Potions, Potter, you have to go beyond the text. A true Potions Master makes his own way; anyone can follow directions.” 

Harry fixed his mouth to argue, but Severus moved in quickly and grabbed a vial of Lady’s Mantle and shook it.

“I wonder, though, what would happen if you challenge yourself to think outside the box. If you dare to take a calculated and informed risk, perhaps you could produce something better than the prescribed formula. Something truly original.”

Severus withdrew his wand and tapped the cauldron thrice before dumping the entire contents of the vial inside. Harry’s eyes went wide as the blue mixture turned green. 

“Try it,” Severus said.

Harry looked back at him hesitantly and dipped his spoon in. He cautiously took a quick swipe of it with the tip of his tongue. His eyes fluttered as a warm, soothing feeling spread from his fingertips to his hands. His previous ire with Severus was completely gone; he felt perfectly calm. 

He looked up at Severus, impressed. “Is it still the Draught of Peace?”

“Hmm, no. Something better, I think. I should name it, but I haven’t found the right appellation for it yet,” Severus said thoughtfully.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think I could just pick some random ingredient and produce the same result.”

“I said calculated and informed, Harry.” 

Severus moved in, and Harry’s breathing immediately changed. 

“Consider the standard ingredients for the potion,” Severus instructed. “What ingredients counteract or nullify each of them.”

Harry tried to mentally compare every potion ingredient he knew with his mental list for the Draught of Peace, but Severus was moving again, much closer, and stepping around to stand directly behind him. Harry could feel the hairs standing on the back of his neck as Severus’ breath caressed his skin. Over the last few weeks, the charged air between them had morphed into pure attraction. It was too powerful to deny, and Harry had even begun to give in to it, imagining what it would be like to touch Severus, to kiss him. 

“I dunno,” Harry mumbled. “Give me some time to think about it. I can experiment with it over hols.”

Severus clicked his teeth. “Pity. I did not expect someone so daring and impulsive to give in to caution… and fear. If you were an Auror and a situation arose that required you to prepare the Draught of Peace, would you ask for time to study and experiment?”

“That’s different and highly improbable,” Harry argued. 

“Perhaps, but it doesn’t change the fact that your reluctance stifles your ability to excel in potions making. Choose something different now. Take a risk and improvise. It may turn out well… ”

Harry imagined Severus’s obsidian eyes staring holes into the back of his head as the man egged him on. For one brief moment, Harry considered turning around to kiss him. 

_How’s that for a risk, Professor?_

He wiped his sweaty palms on his robes and, on a whim, he grabbed the vial of unicorn’s hair and emptied the entire contents into the cauldron.

The green mixture turned black and sputtered violently.

“Or perhaps not,” Severus sighed. “Improvisation is like anything else − it requires both skill and practice.”

Harry felt more than heard Severus moving from around him, and he wondered how long they would continue this dance. 

With his heart hammering in his chest, Harry clenched his fists and turned on his heels to face Severus. The man appeared frozen as he stared back at him. Harry took a step closer, and Severus stood his ground. Harry leaned in, licking his lips to ensure they were moist and pleasant. Finally, Severus leaned in as well, his gaze lingering on Harry’s mouth for a moment before meeting Harry’s stare.

Harry searched Severus’ eyes, and when he saw what he wanted to see in them, he mentally said ‘fuck it’ and closed his eyes, waiting for the kiss.

“You should go now,” said Severus in a hoarse whisper.

Harry’s eyes flew open in disappointment. He reached out and grabbed Severus arm, but the man rebuffed him. 

“Leave. Now.”

But Harry couldn’t, so Severus did. 

Δ 

The last night of the semester, Severus made rounds in Slytherin, checking to make sure every student who was supposed to leave had boarded the Hogwarts Express and that those who had permission to stay understood the rules for the holiday break.

He purposely took his time and lingered in the Slytherin common room long after most of the students had left. The three that remained were noticeably uncomfortable with the presence of the head of their house in their living area. They all seemed greatly relieved when he finally excused himself. 

At a quarter to ten p.m., he strolled down the long corridor leading to the headmistress’ office, unsure of what exactly he was doing. He had no desire to talk to the old coot, but running into McGonagall seemed like a far better option than talking to Harry. 

What the hell had Harry been thinking? Did he seriously think he and Severus could be lovers? The idea seemed ludicrous, even in the face of Severus’ increasing lust. Usually lust led to disaster; Severus had observed enough foolish behaviour produced by it to not put faith in it. 

And he was no fool.

“Severus, what are you doing?” McGonagall had been lingering in the corner near the phoenix staircase like a bat. Severus wasn’t surprised.

“I’m making rounds, ensuring the castle is secure,” he replied.

McGonagall gave him a bemused look as she slunk out of the shadows to approach him.

“And where is Potter?”

Severus narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious of her. “I have no idea. Why would I?”

The ghost of a smirk crossed her lips. “You and he have been spending lots time together. Lessons, and from what I hear, evenings in your private chambers… ”

“If you are implying that−”

“Severus, I know we aren’t friends. We’ve had many differences over the years. But you should know that I have come to respect your intellect and bravery, even if I despise your treatment of Gryffindor students.”

He kept his eyes trained on her, ready for the punch line. Obviously, this was a set-up of some sort. When she moved in and placed a gentle hand on Severus’ arm, he flinched and gripped his wand tightly.

“To a complete stranger, your relationship with Potter would seem problematic. The differences in age and rank raise ethical concerns.”

Severus opened his mouth to protest, but McGonagall continued before he could get a word out.

“Normally I would discourage a romantic relationship between two staff members, especially involving someone so young, but Potter is a special case. He’s been through so much. I was very worried about him returning this year. But he seems to be adjusting well. I think he’s quite smitten with you, Severus, and the relationship has obviously done wonders for your disposition, as well. Off the record, I want you to know, I approve. All I ask is that you keep your affairs discreet and professional during lessons and school events.”

“But−”

“I don’t want to have to entertain any questions from students, or parents. At least, until we have to. I’m sure when you two are ready to announce your relationship, we’ll all have to deal with some scrutiny,” she said with a small smile. “I’ll be around if you need me. In the meantime, enjoy your holiday.”

She gave him a slight bow of the head, and left Severus standing aghast in the corridor.

He made three more rounds for good measure, making sure he did not return to his private chambers until well after midnight. But when he opened the door to his Potions classroom, his stomach dropped. Harry had camped outside of the door to his private chambers and was drifting off, his knees pulled up so he could rest his head.

“Harry… ”

Green eyes blinked up at him, along with a slow, sleepy smile. “Was beginning to think you were hiding from me, or something.”

Harry tried to stand and faltered a little. Severus instinctively reached out to help, grabbing hold of the man’s arm and leaning in for support. Harry accepted it and placed one hand on Severus’ shoulder, his fingers brushing the ends of Severus’ hair. 

The stomach flips returned as their eyes locked. 

“What are you doing here?” Severus forced out, even though he already knew.

“I’m following your advice, Professor,” Harry said. “Taking calculated risks… ”

Before Severus could think of a reply, warm moist lips pressed against his. He froze, unsure of how to respond. But Harry was a good teacher; he reached up with both hands to cup Severus’ face and, with slow gentleness, he used his mouth to instruct Severus’ on what he should do next. 

They kissed for a very long time; at least, it felt that way to Severus. He’d never kissed anyone before, and although he found the encounter _wonderful, arousing, magnificent_ pleasant, once again his mind began to wander. What happened after this? He’d never had sex with anyone. Would Harry want to penetrate him? Take him in his mouth? Could Severus take Harry into his?

_Oh yes._

His kiss grew more fervent as the thought gave way to a trove of his latest fantasies. 

When Harry finally broke the kiss, Severus was almost panting with anticipation.

“Wow. That was… ”

“Brilliant,” Severus supplied. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking at Severus like a pauper who’d come across a bag of gold.

“I know this may seem fast but− ”

“Yes,” Severus replied quickly, leaning in to open the door behind Harry as he took his lips once more.


	7. Lessons in Exploration

The entire situation was surreal. Severus Snape’s usually disgruntled mouth sucked, licked and bit Harry’s lips while they fumbled with each other’s clothing. Harry tried not to think too hard about it as he focused on the feel of long bony fingers sliding over his chest and down to his trousers. There was an impatient tug, followed by a grunt, and then the hands left his body and the lips covering his were pulling away. He bit his lip, positive that Severus had changed his mind or, worse, suddenly remembered how much he disliked Harry. 

He winced, afraid to fully look, but when he peeked, to his surprise, Severus was looking down at his feet. Harry opened his eyes completely and reached out with two fingers to lift the man’s chin.

“Look at me,” he said quietly.

The tight-clenched jaw and raw anxiety in Severus’ eyes startled Harry. The man appeared to be struggling with something, but he remained silent, which only increased Harry’s concern.

“Say something… please,” Harry begged.

“I… I’ve never done this before,” Severus said, so quietly it almost sounded like a whisper.

“Neither have I,” Harry said. “Well, not with a man, at least. We’ll just take it slow, do whatever feels right.”

Severus gave him a sceptical eyebrow quirk that made Harry chuckle. 

“Come on, it’s not like advanced magic or something; it’s just sex. We don’t even have to−”

“I want to,” Severus said quickly.

Now it was Harry’s turn to raise eyebrows. “All right. Then I suggest you relax. Think of this as a potions experiment.” 

Severus tilted his head in question.

Harry shrugged. “Ah, well, first we get the basics down, you know, kiss and stuff, and then we uh, take a few risks, and if it doesn’t work out, we’ll improvise, try something new.” 

Severus nodded. “And whatever works, we’ll keep doing.”

“Exactly!” Harry said with excitement, but Severus still looked unsure, which made Harry feel weird about continuing. He didn’t want to push something if the man wasn’t ready. 

“Very well,” Severus said. “Let’s continue.”

Harry nodded, feeling out of sorts. This was beginning to feel weird; the talking had killed his hard-on and the primal lust that had been driving him now felt muted. 

Severus appeared just as unsure, and made a great show of removing his robes and folding them on the loveseat before returning to stand before Harry, awkwardly.

Laughing didn’t seem like a good idea, but that’s exactly what Harry felt like doing. It was strange to see a man nearly twice his age waiting for him to make the first move, but it was evident Severus intended to follow Harry’s lead. 

“Oh, hell,” Harry whispered as he reached out and grabbed the back of Severus’ head to pull him in for a searing kiss as he backed the man towards his bedroom. 

Δ 

Severus tried not to worry about his sweaty palms and clumsy movements as Harry walked him back into his bedroom. It was dimly lit, but Harry seemed confident, as if he knew where he was heading despite the fact he’d never stepped foot inside of Severus’ bedroom before. Within seconds, the back of Severus’ legs hit the bed. He went stiff as his previous fear of the unknown and how to navigate it resurfaced. 

Harry pulled back from the kiss, gave Severus a warm smile and pushed him down to sit on the bed. Severus’ eyes went wide as Harry climbed right on top of his thighs, straddling him to resume kissing. It was overwhelming to have a handful of Harry in his lap, teasing with his tongue and grinding his impressive hard cock into Severus’ stomach. 

Severus could hardly catch his breath, and when he tried to, Harry practically attacked his neck, nibbling and sucking. A small whine escaped Severus as Harry’s hot breath warmed a particularly sensitive spot just below his earlobe, where Nagini had bitten him. The scars from her fangs had faded considerably, but that area was still very sensitive. The phrase _Dear Lord_ came to mind. He didn’t even know he had a spot. Of course, he’d heard about people having them, but nothing he’d ever heard could describe the way Harry’s mouth was making him feel. 

“Take it off,” Harry demanded in his ear. “Take it all off.”

Severus quickly nodded and scrambled to remove his shirt, unbuckle his trousers, and pull them down, leaving on only his pants. He watched as Harry looked down the way one would regard a fly in his food.

“I said all of it,” Harry said firmly. Surprised by the other man’s bossiness, Severus simply regarded him in silence. Then Harry was pulling his pants down, and Severus helped him, raising his legs and stepping out of them. 

Heat spread all over his body as Harry’s eyes roamed over every inch of him. He was about to protest and make a move to cover himself when Harry’s hand shot out and took hold of his erect cock. 

Severus was surprised to hear his own moan as Harry began to stroke him with the talented hands he’d been daydreaming about for weeks. 

“Lie back,” Harry ordered. 

Severus knew he should have been annoyed by Harry’s dishing out orders, but his cock said otherwise and, so far, the man had steered them in the right direction, so Severus complied.

His breath hitched when he felt moist warm lips moving over each of his nipples and down his stomach. He clenched his eyes shut and gripped the sheets as Harry’s mouth inched closer to his bits. When Harry’s tongue slid out and licked the head of his cock as if it were an ice pop, Severus made a sound he’d never made before. 

Then Harry’s mouth was on him, opening wide and sucking him in slowly. Severus moaned as his hips involuntary jerked. He went still when he felt something graze him.

“Teeth… ”

Harry paused and looked up, his mouth still full of cock. “Hmm?”

“Your teeth, watch it.”

Harry nodded and adjusted, grabbing the base of Severus' cock as he resumed. 

“Fuck.”

Harry hummed in response, his sucking quickening.

Severus vaguely realized he was gasping and grunting as his pleasure mounted. He grabbed the top of Harry’s head and began to thrust. The tightness in his bollocks told him he was close to achieving release and, for a brief moment, he wondered if Harry would mind swallowing his come.

The man’s fervent sucking hinted that wouldn’t be a problem. 

“Merlin!” Severus exclaimed as his climax hit him like a Stupefy. He froze as his back arched, his hand tightly gripping Harry’s hair.

Five or twenty minutes later, Severus felt Harry’s mouth leave him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw beautiful green eyes staring back at him. 

“That was pretty hot,” Harry said with a grin. “You look completely different when you come.”

Severus drew his legs together and pulled the covers over his bits, suddenly embarrassed. He had no idea how he looked when he came, but the way Harry was staring down at him made him feel exposed and defenceless.

“You’re covering up now? Don’t,” Harry said, pulling the sheet off. “I like looking at you.”

“And when will I get to see you?” Severus asked pointedly.

Harry smirked, “As soon as you recover. We’ve got all night, and so much more to explore.”

Severus tried in vain to temper his smile.


	8. Lessons in Reflection

Harry stirred from a deep slumber to the shadowed glow of sunlight seeping into the dungeon-level window of Severus’ bedroom. His eyes adjusted as he took in the now familiar minimalist surroundings. Plain off-white walls, no pictures, an old black ladder-back chair, a small desk in the corner next to a well-worn wooden wardrobe, and the queen-size bed he and Severus lay in. Harry felt a long thin arm draped across his chest. He peeked down and saw a curtain of black hair and a protruding nose snuggled against his left shoulder. Carefully, using his right hand, he pushed back the hair until he saw long black eyelashes resting against Severus’ skin. 

Harry stared down at the man for a very long time, his mind still buzzing from the chain of events that had led them here. It’d been over two weeks since they’d first slept together, two weeks since Harry had practically moved in to share Severus’ private quarters. 

He was still amazed that Severus Snape was his lover. If someone had told him this would happen even six months before, he would have laughed. But kissing Severus, touching him, fucking him, and holding him, came naturally. 

“This is where I belong,” he whispered, stroking the silky black hair beneath his palm.

Severus’ eyes opened slowly. Harry smiled down at him. “Morning.”

“What did you just say?” Severus asked.

“I said ‘morning’.”

“Before that… ”

Harry wrinkled his brow. “Ah, I believe I said, ‘This is where I belong.’” 

Severus frowned and sat up slowly. “Have you been practicing?”

“Practicing what? Shagging? Kissing? Yeah, but not nearly enough,” Harry said with a cheeky grin.

Severus shook his head. “We’ve… lost track of time. You came to me to help you earn a NEWT in Potions. What we’re doing now… it’s not going to help you pass your exam or become an Auror. We need to return to a proper schedule. You need to focus.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not here to become a Potions guru. If I do decide to go for the Auror trials, I’ll pass the Potions NEWT easily. I already know far more than the average recruit.”

“ _If?_ Since when did applying to be an Auror become just a possibility?”

Harry shrugged, avoiding Severus demanding stare. “I dunno. Being an Auror sounded like a good idea last year, but now… well, there’s tons of things I can do right here. I really love Hogwarts; it’s my home, and I can’t imagine ever really leaving it.”

“You love Hogwarts? _That’s_ your rationale for abandoning your career goals, and nearly five months of training?”

Harry huffed. “I’m not abandoning anything! I’m just… reconsidering things.”

When Severus scowled, Harry reached out to squeeze his hand. 

Severus closed his eyes and let his head fall. “When you took the teaching assistant position, I promised McGonagall I’d take care of you. Somehow I don’t think she, or anyone else, would be happy to learn you’ve dumped your career plans to be my lover.”

Severus gasped as Harry whacked him firmly in the head with a pillow. 

“This isn’t just about you, you narcissistic git! _I’m_ happier here. Yes, you have a lot to do with that, but so do the students, and Hagrid, and McGonagall, hell, even Filch.”

Severus grimaced, and Harry chuckled.

“Can you at least promise me one thing,” Severus said.

Harry waited with bated breath, hoping it wouldn’t be something that could rip his heart out.

“Promise me that you will at least sit for the NEWT, even if you decide not to use it.”

Harry sighed in relief, “Sure, Severus.”

Δ 

Severus watched from a distance as Harry set up his cauldron and ingredients for another effort to improvise the Draught of Peace. He shook his head as he noted that once again, outside of the core ingredients required for the potion, Harry had chosen an entirely different set of ingredients from his last experiment. 

“You should at least try to incorporate some of the ingredients you used last time,” Severus chided. 

“They didn’t work, so why would I use them?”

“Have you really thought about why they didn’t work?”

Harry gave him an aggravated look. “Does it matter? I know those particular ingredients don’t work together.”

“You know nothing.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. 

“Before you begin today,” Severus continued. “I would like for you to sit down and think about the combinations you’re choosing, and why they are not working. Perhaps it has nothing to do with the ingredients.”

“Fine,” Harry said in a bratty tone, plopping down in the adjacent seat. He pulled out a parchment and quill and Severus took one last look at him and left the classroom. 

As soon as he closed the door, Severus exhaled and fell back against it. 

“Ah, there you are,” said McGonagall. She was halfway down the corridor, evidently en route to pay him a visit 

Severus tried not to groan. He’d seen entirely too much of the old shrew lately.

“Is it true?” 

Severus straightened, bracing himself for a salacious rumour about him and Harry. 

“Potter came to see me today,” she said. “He informed me that he may be staying, and asked if there were any positions available for him.”

“Really?”

“Yes, is this your doing?” McGonagall asked sternly.

“I assure you, it is not. I would like for him to pursue his original career goal, and I have made this very clear to him.”

McGonagall appeared somewhat surprised. “I see. Then I suppose this is truly his decision and only he can make it. Tell me, Severus, how do you like having him as an assistant? Has it improved your lessons in any way?”

Severus almost scoffed. He was a Potions Master; having an assistant didn’t do a thing to improve his instruction. But having Harry around had provided other benefits.

“I am very pleased with Harry’s performance, and his presence has made a difference,” he said carefully.

McGonagall smirked. “I’m sure it has. If he does choose to stay here at Hogwarts, would you be willing to take him on as an apprentice? I was thinking perhaps he could instruct the first and second years while you instruct the older students. You could use the free time to work on your potions experiments.”

Severus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He’d been so focused on his guilt and the negative consequences of Harry staying that he’d never considered any alternative. “Perhaps.”

“Think on it, Severus. It may be the best situation for both of you,” McGonagall said ominously, with an irritating knowing look.


	9. Lessons in Patience

Severus’ hand threaded through Harry’s hair as they kissed. Harry pressed his hard cock against Severus as he pushed him against the wall behind them.

They’d mastered the art of removing clothing and, within seconds, they were both standing naked in Severus’ study.

“On the loveseat,” Harry whispered urgently, his desire to fuck Severus reaching a dizzying pitch. 

Severus moved, too slowly, to lie back awkwardly across the small couch. He was longer than the length of it by about a foot, but that didn’t matter, Harry had quickly worked out how to take him like this.

He moved around to the side of the loveseat, where Severus’ feet were dangling. 

“Spread your legs a little bit,” he ordered.

Severus peered up at him sceptically but complied, opening his legs. Harry had planned to give him a blowjob, but the sound of Severus’ heaving breathing and the sight of his hard cock was egging Harry on to something more. He placed his hands on his lover’s legs and spread them even farther as he pushed them back against Severus’ chest. 

Harry still found it incredible that someone as aloof and guarded as Severus could be, and often was, this pliable when it came to sex. He immediately dropped to his knees, using both hands to spread Severus’s arse until he saw his prize. He dove into it with his tongue, licking and probing while Severus moaned and ground onto his tongue. 

Harry continued until he could stand no more, and then he pulled back and frantically searched for his wand on the floor. He murmured a lubricating spell on both Severus and himself, and then pressed the head of his cock against Severus’ narrow back entrance.

No matter how many times they did this, Severus always tensed up, and Harry had to coax his way inside of him with tender kisses and encouraging murmurs.

“Need to be inside of you,” he whispered as he placed a gentle kiss to Severus’ ankle.

Severus’ tight expression relaxed a little, and so did the hold on his clenched arsehole. Harry closed his eyes as he pushed forward, revelling in the tight feeling engulfing him. He was very careful and slow until Severus grew sick of it and urged him to fuck him like a bloody madman. Harry shed all self-control and gave the man what he wanted.

When it was over, Harry lay spent on top of Severus, his ear next to Severus’ heart, listening to his heartbeat slow. His recent climax and the hand rubbing his back almost lulled him into sleep, until Severus spoke. “Have you made your decision yet?”

“What?”

Harry waited for Severus to repeat his question, knowing full well what was just asked. But Severus simply lay there in silence, waiting. 

Harry inwardly groaned. The fantastic high of his climax was quickly fizzling, and if Severus’ stiffness was any indication, the question was very important and could lead to a row.

“No, I haven’t. Why?”

“I think you should become an Auror. It’s what you really want.”

Harry jerked his head and sat up to look down at Severus. “I told you what I want.”

“How do you know what you’ll be giving up? What if you regret not applying? I don’t want to be responsible for that. And I certainly don’t want to hear you whine about it when you wake up six months from now regretting your decision.”

Harry nodded. “So that’s it, then, you’re scared?”

“Excuse me?” Severus asked, sitting up and covering himself.

Harry shook his head. “You’re scared that I’ll grow tired of you. Or perhaps that it won’t work out, and I’ll regret it.”

Severus didn’t confirm or deny, but his eyes told Harry everything.

Harry reached put a gentle hand on Severus’ leg. “Get this through that cynical head of yours- whether or not I apply to be an Auror, I’ll continue to see you. I _want_ to be with you. I know this is hard for you to believe, but I care about you.”

“When will you make your decision?” Severus demanded, as if he hadn’t heard Harry’s declaration.

Hurt and dumbfounded, Harry gaped back at Severus. He stood up abruptly and started to dress. 

“What are you doing?” Severus asked.

“I’m going back to my chambers. This has nothing to do with my career. It’s about your guilt and your fear. You still think you’re my bloody keeper. I see it in your eyes sometimes, the way you look at me. And you’re scared… of what, I’m not sure. Getting hurt? Rejected? Or the possibility that someone actually cares about you? Whatever it is, you’re hiding behind this bullshit excuse of wanting me to leave Hogwarts to become an Auror.”

He’d said it all in one breath, and he was nearly panting for air when he finished. Somehow he’d managed to get completely dressed during his rant. There was nothing really stopping him from leaving, except a desperate hope that perhaps Severus would respond truthfully.

But the man was as stubborn as they came, and he simply stared back impassively at Harry as though he’d been listening to the weather forecast. It was infuriating.

“When will you decide?” Severus asked again.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” Harry said. “But don’t hold your breath; I have nearly a full term to think it over.”

Finally, a small scowl cracked the mask of indifference on Severus’ face. 

Satisfied, Harry turned on his heel and left. 

Δ 

Severus tried to read the latest edition of _Potions Scholar_ , but it was hard with Harry making so much noise in the background. He began to keep count of the number of times Harry cursed as he attempted to produce something better than the Draught of Peace. So far, Severus had counted five ‘fucks’, three ‘shits’, and one ‘bloody hell’. 

It would have been amusing under any other circumstance – seeing Harry frustrated and in desperate need of guidance always produced a degree of satisfaction – but over the past few days, Severus had begun to feel more forlorn and unsettled. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t because Harry had stopped visiting in the evenings, or that he missed waking up next to Harry in the morning. 

Still, all of the lies he told himself couldn’t dissuade the feeling that something very important was slipping from Severus like water through his fingers. There were only a few more days left in the holiday break. Only a few more days to spend time with Harry the way he wanted to, but Severus couldn’t let go of his pride. He refused to ask Harry to come visit him at night, and so their daily laboratory sessions became even more important. 

“Fuck!”

“Is that really necessary?” Severus scolded.

“Yes. Yes, it is. I’ve done everything you’ve told me. I’ve memorized the potion, applied what was written, identified my failure in producing the correct brew, and finally I produced a perfectly acceptable version of it, only to be told that it was boring and predictable. So then, I took a risk and tried to improvise to make a better potion. And when I got that wrong, I reflected on the ingredients I used and how they interact and could be improved. But no matter how many times I reflect and try a new configuration, it turns to shit.” 

Severus tapped his fingers on the desk, considering all he had observed of Harry over the last month of sessions. “That’s because you’re rushing. You’re not giving any of your concoctions time to settle. You’re too anxious to discover a solution. Just because something looks wrong at first, doesn’t mean that it will remain that way. Have you researched the incubation time period required for particular mixtures to chemically react? What about time for settling? Some potions like Polyjuice, for example, take weeks to perfect.”

“I know that! But you did it right in front of me, and it only took seconds!” Harry said in frustration.

“That was my version; yours may take longer. Patience is absolutely necessary if you are to become a true Potions Master,” Severus said.

A strange smug look of triumph grew on Harry’s face as he folded his arms over his chest, “Patience? Hmm, you don’t say. Tell me more about that.”

Severus pursed his lips and gave Harry a wary look. “Wait it out, give it a day, and see what the consistency is tomorrow.”

“Wait it out… ”

“Yes,” Severus said stiffly.

Harry smirked. “All right, I’ll try it your way, _Professor._ I’ll exercise _patience_ and see what comes of it. Perhaps you’re right – I shouldn’t throw something away until I give it a chance to develop.”

Severus sighed loudly, rolled his eyes, and tried to resume reading.


	10. Lessons in Discipline

Harry walked around the classroom, observing students’ progress with their potions. As he made his way up the left side of the room, Severus took a turn for the right. They danced around each other this way through most lessons now. Sometimes Harry would go straight up the middle or zigzag to see what the man would do. Severus always found a way to put considerable distance between them, and he barely spoke to Harry in front of the students.

It had been over a month into spring term, and it seemed the tension between them had only grown worse. Severus hardly acknowledged his presence now, but Harry knew the man missed him. Harry could see it when he caught his eyes by mistake, and the way Severus could barely look at him during Harry’s potions experiments. It was maddening. 

At night, Harry found himself replaying their conversations, and smiling at the way Severus had revealed himself to him, little by little. Before bed, he’d wank to the memory of their brief but intense sexual encounters over and over again.

Perhaps Severus could hold out forever, but Harry didn’t like games. So when Severus rounded the right corner of the room, Harry turned right and quickly made his way over to meet the man straight on, bumping right into him. 

“What are you doing?” Severus asked sternly.

“Excuse me, Professor.” 

“You should watch where you’re going, Potter.”

“Perhaps if you weren’t so dead set on avoiding me, I wouldn’t have to,” Harry snapped.

Severus’ eyes cut to his side, and Harry followed his gaze. It was deathly quiet and the students were staring at them. 

“Have a seat, Potter,” Severus ordered.

The heat of humiliation rushed to Harry’s face as he was reminded of the Severus Snape he used to loathe. “Why should I?”

“Because I said so,” Severus said with a warning in his tone.

“No.”

Severus’ black eyes went sharp as he glared back at Harry. “That is unacceptable. This is my classroom, and you are my assistant – you will do as you’re told.”

“I did nothing wrong. You’re being ridiculous right now.”

“Very well,” Severus replied, “Detention, then. And 100 points from Gryffindor. You will remain in class two hours after your required post-lesson assistant duties.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open as he gaped back at Severus. “You're kidding, right?”

“No, I’m dead serious.”

“You can’t do that!”

“I can, and I have,” Severus said in an even tone. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a class to conduct,” he said, turning back to the right. “Back to work, all of you; you are being graded on your progress today.”

Harry glanced around the room and took note of quite a few students peeking up at him, many in sympathy. He balled his fists at his sides and turned left to finish helping them.

Δ 

Severus sat at his desk, watching Harry as he cleaned cauldrons, and then set up his own. He cracked his knuckles as Harry took notes, measurements, and began to mix ingredients. Harry flicked his wand to cast a heating spell, covered the cauldron, and took more notes. Not once did Harry look at him. Severus cleared his throat, hating that he would actually go to such desperate lengths to get the other man’s attention. Still, Harry did not look up. 

“Harry… ”

Harry continued to write and, besides the sound of the quill scribbling, there was silence. 

“So you’re going to ignore me, then? How mature of you,” Severus drawled.

Harry lifted the lid from the cauldron to check the contents and scribbled something else. Severus tapped his foot impatiently, his annoyance with Harry growing with each passing moment. He had a good mind to go over and snatch the man’s quill away from him.

Finally, Harry looked up. “I think I’ll let this one brew for a few days.”

“Fine,” Severus said.

Harry put down his quill and stood up. “Can we begin detention now?”

“Yes,” Severus said with contempt. “You’re in need of discipline. I think perhaps you’ve grown too comfortable in this classroom; you have forgotten your place. To excel at Potions, you must not only master the art, but you must exercise discipline and dignity.” 

Harry scoffed. “Stand up.”

“Pardon?”

Harry moved around his desk and began walking towards the front. “I said, stand up.”

Indignation and curious excitement warred inside of Severus, but in the end, curiosity won. Slowly he rose from his seat as Harry came to stand beside his desk. 

“You know, what you did today was quite unprofessional, _Snape._ Whatever differences we may have, it should never play out in front of the students.”

Severus’ temper broke as he gave Harry a do-you-know-who-the-hell-you’re-talking-to glare. 

“I’m sick of your moody temperament, and your pride, and your callous attitude,” Harry chided. “We both know you miss me. Stop playing as if you don’t.” 

Severus bit his tongue and held himself stolidly, refusing to cave in. Confessing he missed Harry meant admitting that there was something more here than he was prepared for. It meant that he would consciously be encouraging a relationship that could alter both of their lives dramatically. 

Harry threw back his head and groaned. “Argh! You’re so bloody stubborn! Drop your pants and bend over!”

Severus blanched. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Harry raised one eyebrow, waiting.

Severus shook his head. “No.”

“Do it,” Harry whispered in the same tone he’d used whenever he wanted Severus to relax for a good fucking.

It took too long to protest, and by the time Severus had decided to make an effort to resist, Harry was much closer and had his hand pressed into Severus’ clothed hardness.

“Now,” Harry repeated, running his hand along the outline of Severus’ erect cock. He pulled out his wand with the other hand, aimed it at the door, and whispered a locking spell.

The loud click of the lock sliding in place had the effect of a Rennervate Charm; Severus’ pulse quickened and his cock moved. With his heart hammering in his chest and his pants growing tighter, slowly, he turned around and pulled off his robe and undid his trousers.

“Pants,” Harry said impatiently.

Severus pushed them down and stepping out of them. He moved closer to his desk as if it would give him some sort of cover and looked around. He was standing fully nude in his own classroom, on the orders of Harry Potter, his teaching assistant. The situation was absolutely ludicrous, humiliating, and somehow, very arousing. 

“Now bend over the desk,” Harry ordered.

“What are you−?”

“Now!”

Severus closed his eyes, swearing under his breath, only a half a hair’s width from rebelling, but once again his curiosity and arousal overpowered his pride.

He placed his palms flat on the desk and tentatively bent over, his hard cock resting just beneath the desktop. Harry moved in closer and just stood there for a moment.

The seconds went by achingly slowly and, with each passing moment, Severus’ pride grew stronger and threatened to rebel against his desire to see what Harry would do.

Expert fingertips danced over his back, creating goose bumps. Severus shivered with unexpected relief and pleasure. He’d missed Harry but, until now, he hadn’t realized just how much. The fingers trailed their way down to his arse and grabbed at the meaty flesh. It was aggressive and lewd and fully welcomed. Severus found himself pushing his arse back, urging Harry to take him. The hand fell away, and Severus waiting for the whisper of the lubricating spell, but instead, a sharp stinging slap fell against his arse, causing him to yelp. 

“You arsehole,” Harry said as he delivered two more swats to Severus’ bum.

Severus opened his mouth to disagree, but was silenced by five rapid slaps to each cheek. Harry’s hand had never felt so hard and uncaring, and the heat it created made Severus’ eyes water. But that was what Harry wanted, he was sure, so he resolved that he would not break. He could withstand this pain; he’d endured worse. 

“Why are you so bloody stubborn? Huh? Tell me how you really feel. Do you miss me?”

Severus gritted his teeth and pressed his palms harder against the wood, refusing to give in.

“Why can’t you just admit you care about me?” Harry said. 

Severus held back a whimper as Harry delivered a particularly harsh slap. He braced himself for more of the same, but the firm hand turned compassionate and began to gently stroke his burning skin.

He bit his lip, aware that Harry’s caress was more effective than his punishment at producing tears. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to mentally will the weak show of emotion away. Something tickled his cheek and the smell of wood, rosemary, and powdered moonstone reached his nose. He opened his eyes and saw that Harry was leaning over him; their faces were practically touching. Harry licked his lips and Severus looked at his mouth, aching to kiss him. 

“You’re crying,” Harry said. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. You can’t hurt me,” Severus said.

Harry sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you. I want to love you. But I don’t know how to when you keep pushing me away. I miss you, Severus.”

Severus hated the way Harry’s eyes searched him for confirmation that he felt the same. It felt like the man was peering into his soul, trying to turn over rocks that were best left alone.

“I know you really want me to stay. Why are you so scared to admit you care about me?” Harry asked gently. “Or are you just scared to admit you’re scared?”

“I’m not scared of anything,” Severus bit out.

Harry stood up then; resignation etched in every line of his face, and Severus suddenly hated himself, hated his obstinate nature. 

“You win, then. I’ll arrange take my NEWTs early. Next month, as a matter of act. After that, I'll sign up for Auror trials right away. Perhaps that would be best for both of us.”

A small quiet voice inside Severus’ head urged him to stand up and tell Harry _No; you belong here with me,_ but the voice couldn’t convince his tongue to speak it. Instead, he stood up and pulled up his pants and trousers, trying to appear unaffected as Harry unlocked the door to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed the spanking scene, an artist by the name of Mystkyten claimed the same prompt as I did this year for snape-potter's Snarry-a-thon-14. She drew a wonderfully naughty scene you really should check out, here: 
> 
> http://snape-potter.livejournal.com/3287373.html
> 
> If you like it, please show her some love and leave a comment :)


	11. Lessons in Trust

The Whomping Willow was in full bloom, just like the flowers surrounding the grounds. Harry watched from the windowsill of his private chambers as it shook out a swarm of unsuspecting bees. He smiled bitterly as a fair bit of nostalgia hit him suddenly. His eyes swept the grounds. Groups of students were scattered along the grassy knoll, playing games and lounging in the new spring sunshine. 

He glanced down at the open Potions tome in front of him. He had only a few more minutes until the Potions NEWT. This would be his last examination. He’d passed all of the rest, and he suspected this one would go pretty much the same. But his confidence in his ability to excel in Potions was dampened by bittersweet memories of how he’d gained that knowledge. 

His brief time with Severus had taught him so much about Potions and himself, but evidently Severus hadn’t reaped the same rewards from their time together. The idea of leaving behind the possibility of a real relationship with Severus hurt Harry more than leaving Hogwarts. 

There was a knock on his door. 

“Come in.”

It was McGonagall. Harry scrambled off of his windowsill to stand before her. 

“The examination room has been set up.”

Harry nodded. “Great.”

McGonagall gave Harry a stiff smile. “Are you still set on leaving afterwards?”

“Yes. I’m all packed,” he said, regarding his trunk near the door. “I can wait for the results while I stay at the Burrow.”

McGonagall’s usually stern face softened as she came closer. “He cares about you. I know it.”

Harry’s eyes popped as he looked back at her in shock. “How- how do you know?”

“I see it. He’s changed so much this year, physically and in his disposition. The students no longer come to me secretly, crying about his treatment. I’ve actually caught him smiling a few times. You bring out the best in him, Harry. And you seem to benefit from his company as well.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped as he shook his head. “I wish he saw it that way. He’s so bloody−”

“Difficult, stubborn, arrogant, snide… ”

“And he has a huge martyr complex,” Harry added. “He thinks he’s saving me by pushing me away.”

McGonagall gave Harry a small smile. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way. I won’t mince words with you− I used to despise him. I thought I had him pegged. I told Dumbledore he made a mistake bringing him back here. But in spite of all of his flaws, Severus managed to prove me wrong. I underestimated him and his ability to change. Don’t give up on him, Harry; a little faith goes a long way.”

Harry had no clue what to say to that. He’d once thought that perhaps he could build something with Severus no matter what career he chose, but now he doubted it. The decision to leave Hogwarts to become an Auror felt like giving up. 

McGonagall clasped her hands in front of her. “It’s time. Are you ready?”

Harry nodded. “I think so… ”

Δ 

Severus cloaked himself in professionalism to conceal the nervous dread building inside of him. The Ministry’s NEWT official, Mr Baxter, a short, stout man with balding hair, stood in the centre of the room. Harry breezed through the written part of the exam fairly quickly, and was now about to complete the demonstration portion, while Mr Baxter watched him like a hawk from only a few feet away.

Two cauldrons had been lined side by side at one of the laboratory desks, and every ingredient in Severus’ storage had been laid out carefully on the adjacent desk.

“Let’s start, then, shall we?” said Mr Baxter. “For the demonstration portion of the examination, you will brew two advanced potions within the allotted time. Because Potions is an exact science, any mistake you make will be deemed a failure. Professor Snape, please come closer. I require your assistance in verifying the results.”

Severus nodded and approached, feeling unsure in his steps. Could Mr Baxter see how much it hurt to get closer to someone he wanted so much? Could Harry?

“Brew for me one vial of Blood-Replenishing Potion. You have twenty minutes.”

Harry nodded, glancing to Severus before getting to work. Severus watched with restrained anticipation as Harry reached for all of the right ingredients, mixed them well and waved his wand to heat the cauldron. When he was done, a beautiful creamy blood-red mixture simmered before them. 

“Very good, and excellent timing: just under ten minutes. That’s quite impressive, Mr Potter,” said Mr Baxter. “What do you think, Professor Snape?”

“I agree, very impressive,” Severus said quietly.

“Now then, I would like for you to brew the Draught of Peace.” 

Harry sucked in air audibly as his eyes locked with Severus.

“You have one and a half hours,” Mr Baxter continued. “Professor Snape, perhaps we should take a seat?”

“You won’t need to,” Harry said.

Mr Baxter gave Harry a sceptical once-over. “Pardon me, young man?”

“I only need fifteen minutes.”

A nervous protective feeling washed over Severus as he stepped closer to Harry. “No.”

“Professor Snape, you cannot interfere with the examination. If Mr Potter insists on brewing the potion in fifteen minutes, he will be judged accordingly. No assistance is allowed.”

Severus’ eyes darted from Mr Baxter’s to Harry’s, and he saw that those green eyes held the same look of stubborn determination he’d come to find so damned frustrating.

Harry gave Severus an unexpected smile, then turned to set the cauldron to flame.

Mr Baxter coughed, undoubtedly because Harry was performing the set tasks for the potion backwards. Even a fifth year knew, heating the cauldron was the last step. 

Severus closed his eyes briefly in disappointment.

When he opened them, Harry had emptied the vial of syrup of hellebore, but only half of the required measure of powdered moonstone. He watched on as Harry shook a smattering of the jar of powdered unicorn horn and then reached inside of his pocket. Mr Baxter and Severus drew closer to inspect what Harry had in his hand. 

Severus nearly choked when he saw two long black strands of his own hair pinched between Harry’s fingers. Mr Baxter frowned as Harry dropped them in the cauldron, whispered an indecipherable spell, and flicked his wand once. They all leaned in and watched as the mixture turned from grey to the smooth, consistent blue characteristic of the potion. Blue steam began to rise, and then something strange happened. Blue crystals began to form from the steam, sparkling in the air like magical sapphires. 

Mr Baxter slowly reached out with one hand and grabbed one of them. He looked utterly fascinated, and Severus held his breath as he inspected it.

“Try it,” Harry said with a grin.

Mr Baxter looked at him suspiciously. 

“I promise you won’t regret it. And Professor Snape is capable of nullifying any negative effects, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Mr Baxter kept his eyes on Harry as he brought the crystal to his mouth and swallowed. Within seconds, his tight doubtful expression visibly relaxed as he closed his eyes and let out a long, blissful sigh.

“That’s… what is that?” Mr Baxter asked in awe.

“It’s my version of the Draught of Peace. I call it the Draught of Snape.”

Completely flummoxed, Severus’ felt his face grow quite hot. 

When Mr Baxter opened his eyes, he had a smile on his face. “It’s wonderful. You should patent that, young man.”

Harry gave Severus a cheeky smile. “Good idea. Perhaps I will.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Is this a pass or a fail?”

Mr Baxter scratched his head, “Hmm. This is not the Draught of Peace but, Mr Potter, you have demonstrated the ability to take calculated risks and improvise. It’s a rare skill in Potions. I have no doubt you studied this potion for a very long time and that your final product is the result of many trials and a great deal of discipline.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“It is a pass for me, but since this is rather unorthodox, I will defer to the Potions Master. Professor Snape, what do you think?”

Severus’ balled his fists as Harry and Mr Baxter stared back at him. This was horrible. His decision would determine Harry’s eligibility to become an Auror. He wanted Harry to have the option, but now that he was faced with the possibility of Harry leaving, he felt selfish. Failing Harry would be easier than confessing that he needed the man by his side.

“I agree,” he said at last. “Mr Potter has demonstrated proficiency in Potions and should be given an “Outstanding” mark for the examination.”

“Excellent!” said Mr Baxter. “Congratulations, Mr Potter, you have earned an “O” for your NEWT in Potions. It is my understanding that you have successfully achieved an “E” or higher on all of your NEWTs. Therefore, you are now free to pursue a number of promising careers. May I ask what your plans are for the future?”

Harry gave Mr Baxter a sad smile, and opened his mouth and, at that moment, Severus knew without a shred of doubt he’d regret this day if he didn’t step up.

“He will be my apprentice.”

Mr Baxter and Harry both looked back at Severus in astonishment. 

“Really?” Mr Baxter said. “I’d assumed he’d pursue a career in the Ministry, perhaps in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement or even the Department of Mysteries.”

Harry laughed; it was hearty and filled the entire room. Mr Baxter frowned. “Did I say something funny?”

Harry shook his head, “No. I just can’t imagine being anywhere other than Hogwarts. Everything I want is right here. This is where I belong.”

Severus wanted to clap, but that was out of the question. He simply nodded and said, “Yes, it is, and I am very happy with your decision.”

Harry smiled. “I’m ecstatic about yours.”

Mr Baxter gave them both a strange look and cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad you have a placement, and I wish you the best of luck in your career here. It’s been a pleasure, Mr Potter. And very nice meeting you, Professor Snape.”

They shook hands, and Severus and Harry watched as the man left and shut the door. 

Once he was gone, Severus turned to regard Harry. “That was a big risk you took. Were you trying to sabotage the exam?”

Harry shook his head. “No.”

“I could have failed you.”

“I knew you wouldn’t. I trust you to do the right thing. But what made you change your mind about us?”

Severus swallowed his pride and forced his next words out. “I never changed my mind. You were right; it was what I wanted all along. I just decided to invest a little faith in you… and myself.”

Harry looked relieved as he came around the desk to stand closer. “I love you.”

“I know,” Severus said.

“And you love me, too, yes?”

Severus reached out to pull Harry closer by the hair until their foreheads were touching. “You really are thick, Harry. Do I have to spell everything out for you?”

Harry chuckled and kissed him full on the lips. “You have so much more to learn about me.”

Severus smirked. “Yes, and I’m actually looking forward to it.”

 

****

The End


End file.
